Authors: Beverly Lewis
Granny placed the cake right in front of Abby's nose.
Shawn's eyes blinked fast. “Dessert for breakfast?” he said.
“Eat it whenever you wish,” Granny Mae said.
Abby couldn't believe her ears. What would her parents say? But . . . wait! Dad had said to “
Obey your grandmother
.”
Granny Mae was her grandmother. So maybe it was okay to eat chocolate cake for breakfast!
Grandma Hunter brought over a platter of potato cakes. They were made from mashed potatoes. Last night's leftovers!
Ick!
Next, Grandma brought over a huge bowl of oatmeal. Abby could see the teenytiny bits of broccoli. There was no hiding them!
It was an easy choice.
Abby had a piece of chocolate cake with her dry pancakes.
Shawn had one dry pancake with his moist cake.
Abby glanced at Shawn, then at Grandma Hunter. “I think we better wake up Carly and Jimmy.”
The grandmothers agreed about that. It was a first!
Abby, Shawn, and the grandmothers marched down the hall. “Good morning to you, good morning to you . . .” Granny Mae sang as they went.
“The early bird catches the worm,” chanted Abby.
“Better not be any worms in my chocolate cake,” replied Granny Mae.
Shawn was laughing hard. “Wake up, Jimmy! Wake up, Carly!” he called.
Carly was too sleepy to wake up. “I stayed up too late,” she said and rolled over.
Jimmy said the same thing.
Grandma Hunter shook her head. She wouldn't have allowed Jimmy and Carly to stay up so late. Her eyebrows rose and stayed high on her forehead.
“I guess I'll have to eat the chocolate cake by myself,” Granny Mae announced. She said it loud enough for Carly to hear.
That got them up. Jimmy first, then Carly.
“Are we really having dessert for breakfast?” Carly asked. She rubbed her eyes awake. She must've thought she was dreaming.
Jimmy ran to the kitchen. “Sugar very good for you,” he hollered. “Just like a vitamin!”
Grandma Hunter's lips were tight. She offered bananas and orange juice. And the awful oatmeal.
Granny Mae held up the gooey cake.
Carly and Jimmy were grinning. They chose the cake!
Grandma Hunter's face turned red. “Remember to say grace,” she said.
Probably so we won't die
, Abby thought.
“We could sing our prayer,” Granny Mae said with a smile.
“Mommy says
not
to sing at the table,” Carly piped up.
“Carly's right,” Abby said.
“Better
say
prayer,” Shawn spoke up.
“And hurry . . . hurry,” said Jimmy, staring at the cake.
Abby blessed the food. And thanked God for
both
her grandmothers.
“Dig in!” Granny Mae said.
“Be neat,” said Grandma Hunter.
Abby spread her napkin on her lap. She cut her slice of cake and placed it on top of her dry pancake. But she didn't take any oatmeal with green broccoli dots. Nope!
Snow White, the dog, wandered over to the table. She sniffed around Abby's plate.
“Are you hungry?” Abby whispered. She lifted up the bowl of oatmeal.
Snow White took one whiff and backed away.
“The dog doesn't know what's good,” said Grandma Hunter.
Abby bit her tongue. She knew better than to say otherwise.
“Ducks not like broccoli, either,” Jimmy blurted.
Grandma Hunter's face turned purple. Her hands shook. “Ducks? Who's feeding my beautiful broccoli to the ducks?” she asked.
Jimmy slumped down in his chair. “Oops,” he whispered.
Yikes!
thought Abby.
TEN
Breakfast was over.
Abby and Shawn helped Grandma Hunter clean the kitchen.
Carly and Jimmy helped Granny Mae make the beds.
Abby could hear Granny Mae whistling in the bedrooms. And there were giggles, too. Lots of them.
Carefully, Abby rinsed the plates. She handed them to Shawn. He put them in the dishwasher.
It was so quiet. No one was whistling in
the kitchen. Not Shawn. Not Abby. And not Grandma Hunter.
Abby turned on the radio. It was time for Saturday morning jazz, the Dixieland kind. Squealing clarinets and a romping piano!
She jigged around the table. She waved the dish towel in the air. Shawn joined in, too.
But Grandma Hunter shuffled past them, out of the room.
“Grandma is very upset,” Shawn whispered.
Abby nodded. “I know.”
“At least we're safe from broccoli,” said Shawn, laughing.
“Maybe,” replied Abby.
But broccoli didn't matter right now.
Abby went looking for Granny Mae. She found her downstairs in the family room. “I think we have a problem,” Abby told her. “It's about Grandma Hunter.”
Granny Mae's eyes popped wide. “What's wrong?”
Abby tried to explain. “Grandma Hunter likes things . . . uh, just so.” She paused.
Granny chuckled. “That's nothing new. Everyone knows Grandma Hunter's fussy that way.”
“But she's
unhappy
,” Abby insisted. “I think we hurt her feelings.”
“Oh dear,” Granny Mae said. “I was afraid of that. I suppose I should've stayed home.”
“No, Granny, we're glad you came. After all, it's Grandparents Day tomorrow,” Abby said. “But how can we make Grandma cheerful again?”
Granny Mae scratched her head. “Let's see. . . .” She thought and thought.
Then she jumped up off the sofa. “You just leave that to me, Abbykins.” And she marched down the hall and knocked on the guest room door.
Abby gulped.
What have I done?
Two grandmas were locked away in the guest room.
Abby watched the kitchen clock.
The minutes ticked by.
She and Carly, Jimmy, and Shawn sat around the table. They were silent. They looked back and forth at one another.
“What if Granny Mae goes home?” Carly worried.
Abby shrugged. “She's up to something. I know that much.”
Jimmy rolled his eyes. “I like fun Granny. She very cool.”
Shawn poked his brother. “And I like prissy Grandma. She give great hugs.”
Abby heard several footsteps. “Shh! Someone's coming!”
The kids sat up straight . . . waiting.
Then Granny Mae and Grandma Hunter strolled into the kitchen. Their arms were linked together!
Abby's mouth dropped open.
What's going on?
she wondered.
“Everything's cool, kiddos,” Granny Mae announced. “Grandma Hunter and I have come to an agreement.”
Grandma Hunter's eyes were shining. “You dear children,” she said. “You've been all mixed up this weekend. One strict grandma and one happy-go-lucky grannyâboth of us trying to take good care of you.”
Granny Mae agreed. “You kiddos have been trying to please both of us. That's too much to ask.”
Abby listened.
What's the agreement?
she wondered.
Grandma Hunter continued. “There's a time for dessert . . .”
“And there's a time for broccoli,” added Granny Mae.
“Both are important,” the grandmas said together.
“There's a time to party,” said Grandma Hunter.
“And there's a time to work,” Granny Mae said. “And something else. We've agreed to be a team . . . Grandma and I.”
“And,” said Grandma Hunter, “we've agreed to a party!” She was grinning.
The Hunter kids cheered. “Hoo-ray!”
“When's the party?” Carly asked.
“Tomorrow, right after church,” said Granny Mae.
“For Grandparents Day?” Jimmy asked, wide-eyed.
“Double dabble good idea!” shouted Abby.
Grandma Hunter sat at the table. “Let's plan a big dinner party,” she said. “What would you like to eat?”
Anything but broccoli
, thought Abby. But she was polite. “We all like pasta,” she suggested.
Grandma's eyes sparkled. “We'll have a spaghetti feast.”
“With meat sauce?” Carly asked.
“Oh, certainly,” said Grandma Hunter.
“Just
plain
meat sauce?” Abby asked.
She had to make sure no vegetables would be floating around.
Granny Mae spoke up. “We'll have vegetables on the side. But no broccoli tomorrow.”
“And we'll have plenty of desserts after dinner,” Grandma added.
“Can we invite Grandpa Hunter?” asked Carly.
“Of course,” Grandma said. She looked at Granny Mae. “And while you're at it, invite your friends, too.”
Abby gasped.
Was this for real?
“We want to meet the Cul-de-sac Kids,” Grandma Hunter said. “Don't we, Granny?”
“
All
of them?” asked Abby.
Granny Mae stuck up both her thumbs. “You got it, girl. We'll have a pasta picnic in the backyard.”
“Invite their grandparents, too,” Grandma Hunter said.
Abby couldn't stop laughing. Her jitters were gone.
The Granny Game was the best. Nobody had to win, after all.
Double dabble terrific!
THE CUL-DE-SAC KIDS SERIES
Don't Miss
#21!
MYSTERY MUTT
Stacy Henry makes some New Year's goals based on the Fruit of the Spirit. One by one, the Cul-de-sac Kids choose a “fruit.” All except Jason Birchall, who thinks the idea is silly.
Then someone leaves a shabby puppy on his doorstep. And stubborn Jason picks “gentleness” for his New Year's fruit. Stacy and Jason search for the dog's owner, with no success.
Will Stacy's mother let her keep the dirty pooch? Will Jason's? Can the Cul-de-sac Kids harvest a crop of kindness?
About the Author
Beverly Lewis remembers spending time with both grandmothers while she was growing up. One lived in Pennsylvania and often sang hymns as she cooked delicious casseroles. The other lived in Kansas and prayed as she baked chocolate chip cookies mixed with love.